Communication BreakTHROUGH
by TaraGeek
Summary: Dean had been withdrawn lately, it made John mad and it worried Sam. As tensions rise and secrets are revealed, can the elder Winchester sibling reach some kind of self acceptance? A transfic story set in 1995. A prequel to my story "One Night At Easy Daze." Featuring an MTF trans* girl!Dean.
1. Chapter 1

"YOU WILL LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU!"

John Winchester was bellowing as he flew into the Motel room he shared with his two sons. Dean had smashed the door open a second before him, red faced and furious. His hands were balled into two fists that shook as he refused to acknowledge his father.

Sam Winchester's attention had been ripped away from the school books that were spread out over the room's cheap, wood effect table by the volume of his father and brother's voices. Their hunt had only been a local one, a simple salt and burn one town over. At 12 years old Sam was still too young in his father's eyes to come along if there was any risk at all and to be honest he was happy about it. He preferred his school books by far even if the solitude only left him space to worry about his family.

THIS was unusual though, Dad and Dean had always been thick as thieves with HIM the odd one out. He sat, eyes wide with shock at the blazing row before him.

Dean had paused momentarily at his father's words, his eyes toward the bathroom door, the motel room's only refuge. Then, without speaking he wheeled around, failing to even acknowledge his little brother's presence and stormed out at a pace that was if anything, faster than he'd entered with.

John's eyes flared wider still as he yelled after the 16 year old.

"YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW MISTER!"

The only response that was audible from inside the room was a muffled noise that sounded as though it was most likely a hearty.

"Fuck you!"

John lingered in the door way, eyes wide and face red, his mouth open as if ready for words that were failing to come.

Sam broke the silence softly, his quiet voice piercing the tension.

"Dad...?What...?"

John turned sharply to face his younger son, a hand still gripping the door frame.

"NOT NOW SAM!" He barked.

Closing his eyes tightly he took a long steadying breath. Upon opening them, his complexion had slowly begun to regain a more normal colour. Stepping away from the door and toward Sam he clasped the boy on the shoulder in a gesture of reassurance, speaking again.

"I'm sorry buddy."

With a further exhausted breath he fell down into the chair next to Sam, the force of the motion causing the cheap furniture's joints to almost buckle. John's grip momentarily tightened around his son's shoulder then fell away, his hand slapping down on the mud stained knee of his jeans.

"It's not your fault."

He paused, head shaking and looking away, back to the door.

"I don't know what's up with your brother lately."

The next morning, early with his father finally sound asleep, John's large frame collapsed in what past for the room's lone "easy chair." Sam was woken by a thud outside the window. The room still in twilight he glanced over to Dean's unoccupied bed then moved quietly to to confirm his suspicions as to the noise's origin. Suspicions which were duly confirmed by the sight of Dean slumped against the outer wall staring away into the distance. Silently retrieving his jacket Sam made his way to the door carefully pulling it open and stepping outside.

With sleepy eyes Dean looked up at his little brother.

"Hey Sammy..." He acknowledged.

"Hey." Sam replied flopping down next to him.

Both Winchesters stared out, past their father's car, into the Motel parking lot and toward interstate 135 beyond. His gaze remaining dead ahead as Dean began to speak.

"Sorry 'bout that." Where his only words.

Dean had been withdrawn lately and it worried Sam. All his life Dean rather than their father had been the one constant in his life. John some times spent weeks away without word, finally returning from a hunt beaten and bruised only to demand a new, tougher training regime for his son's. Sam loved his Dad, however hard that could be at times but Dean was the one he relied on. Last night was only the most recent and extreme form of weird behaviour from his big brother lately and he didn't know what to do about it.

After another lengthy pause the view out to I-135 seemed to loose it's appeal. Dean reached inside his jacket pocket and retrieved two candy bars, finally looking down at Sam he smiled and ruffled his little brother's hair.

"So, breakfast?" He asked, the cold expression he had been wearing gone, hidden behind a familiar grin.

Sam knew whatever this was, it wasn't over but for now, for his own sake and for Dean's he nodded accepting the candy bar. An explanation would have to wait for another time.

"Sure." He replied smiling back.


	2. Chapter 2

It was another town and another crappy motel, all that Dean had known and if he was honest he didn't think he'd feel at home anywhere else. John had moved them south to Oklahoma on the trail of some vamps east of Arnett. With things as they were he'd neglected to take Dean along and that burned. They'd never really fought before, ever since Mom died they'd always on the same page, they'd _gotten_ each other.

Lately though that wasn't the case and Dean knew it was his fault. It was his fault that Sammy was worried too and as if all of this wasn't bad enough already THAT part just made it worse. Dean knew he was cracking, cracking up more likely! Some of the things that he'd buried since he was very young, things he'd always dismissed as irrelevant or because Mom died were becoming impossible to were things that didn't fit with who he was expected to be, they were things that as far as he saw it COULDN'T match up with a life of hunting.

It was a hot Tuesday afternoon in early June and Dean was skipping another day at Charles N. Haskell High School. Dad was still away and Sammy was busy being a little nerd at his own school. Solitude or not it was impossible to relax. Standing wrapped in a towel as the steam from a less than adequate shower slowly cleared to reveal his refection, to reveal his increasingly, inevitably male body, Dean still felt wretched.

Running another of the motel's rough, moth eaten towels through his hair and dragging it over his body he grimaced. What scared him most about all this was the increasing certainty that he knew exactly what was wrong. Of course the words had never left his lips, he didn't know how to make them do that but all he could feel when he looked at his reflection was pain at his widening shoulders, pain at the beginnings of stubble that grew on his upper lip and chin, pain at his narrow hips and flat chest. Things that should simply be part of his body but were instead unavoidably, impossibly wrong.

Finally dry enough Dean turned his attention to the pile of clothes that sat, protected under another towel in a heap at the bathroom's far end. He hesitated before uncovering them, his face tightening into a knot of an expression. Finally throwing the towel aside he reached for the first item.

The fact that this did NOT feel better was Dean's only thought as he stood before the bathroom mirror barely dressed. He'd only gotten as far as fastening the fairly modest padded bra he'd managed to get a hold of after driving two towns over the previous day. It wasn't like it didn't fit but the way it sat on him only exaggerated how male his body looked. Falling forward to rest on the sink's edge he took a final long look and shook his head, letting out a tiered acknowledgement at just how fucked up he felt.

"Son of a bitch..." He whispered to himself as his forehead met the bathroom mirror with a clunk.

He was so caught up in his own head, as shut off from the world as he could force himself to be that he failed to hear the motel room door open. He failed to hear Sam's progress through the room until the bathroom door began to creak.

Sammy was mid sentence as he appeared from behind the door, it had been clear that Dean was home from the half eaten pie left on the table. He was part way through explaining why he was back from school so early as he stepped inside.

"...that meant the first floor bathroom's were completely flooded so they sent us home."

The 12 year old calmly clarified before adding.

"And get this, **I** haven't been all da..."

Sam paused mid word as he saw Dean, looking up at his brother an expression of confusion turned into a hesitant grin.

"Did you loose a bet or something?" He asked, beginning to chuckle gently.

Dean was frozen to the spot, his mind wiped blank, it should have been a relief because the pain he'd been feeling was temporarily subdued. Instead of relief though, panic shot through him. Unable to find the words for any kind of explanation, he felt his face flush and anger rise inside him. A damp, discarded towel quickly found it's way into his hand and he flung it at Sam with a force that gave a load slap as it hit his brother's t-shirt and face.

"Get out of here you little BITCH!" He yelled, pulling at the bra, desperate to remove the offending item of clothing.

Sam's chuckling ended, his eyes growing wide and angry, his face sore and wet from the towels collision. In a burst of his own confused anger he screamed back at his brother.

"JERK!" Slamming the door behind him he stormed out of the bathroom.

When Dean finally made his way out he found Sam sitting cross legged on one of the beds, forcefully turning the page of some book, his brow tightly furrowed into an impressive scowl.

Dean slowly took a seat next to his little brother and for a moment they sat in silence, Sam pointedly refusing to acknowledge his presence.

"Sorry Sammy." Dean finally offered in apology. He knew it was something he'd had to say far too often recently.

Sam huffed and pouted in response. For a moment Dean's spirits lifted, he affectionately ruffled Sammy's hair marvelling at the sight of his little brother turning into a moody teenager. Instead of batting away the hand Sam kept his eyes focused on his book before slowly turning and beginning to speak.

"So you're Gay? ...is that what this is about?"

Sam sounded hesitant and unsure. Dean felt just as clueless about how to respond. He tried to speak but no words came, his mouth just moved open and closed wordlessly before by force of will they began to come.

"I... I don't know Sammy. I don't.. think so...exactly...I..." He was stuttering, tripping over himself and he felt stupid.

Sam cut him off, doe eyed but insistent he began to offer his piece.

"Because it's okay if you are. I mean it is with me. You're still my brother."

The kid placed a reassuring hand on his arm and it broke Dean's heart. To see his 12 year old brother trying so hard to take care of HIM made him feel like a screw up in the most basic way. It was supposed to be the other way around.

Dean took a breath and drew up in himself, turning to face Sammy squarely. He was determined to finally get a handle on everything he'd been going through, for Sam's sake if not for his own.

"Look, Sammy I don't really know for sure what's going on with me okay."

He paused, knowing that if he WAS finally owning up to things then that wasn't quite right.

"No, that's not true." He admitted with a firm shake of his head, steeling himself for what would come next.

"I don't think I'm gay exactly. I mean, okay I'm pretty sure I like guys AND girls but that's not the point here. That's not what this is all about."

Sam looked un phased by the admission, certainly less shaken by it than Dean was. For the first born son of John Winchester, admitting an attraction to men was a pretty big deal. Sam just calmly nodded though, listening.

Dean felt flushed and shaky again, his eyes darting away from Sam's. He knew that coming this close to the truth he couldn't turn back. That's not how he fought evil things that crawled out of the dark and that's not how he'd do this either. He took a final breath and started to speak, his lip curling into an ironic smile.

"My entire life I've felt like it was something. I used to think it was because Mom died but that's not it. There was always something nagging inside me y'know and the past few years it's just gotten stronger and stronger."

He paused again, gathering strength for what he had to say next. The words came fast, racing out of his mouth, like ripping off a band aid.

"The older I get the more sure I am that I should be a girl not a guy."

He flicked his eyes back up to meet Sammy's. Sam's expression was calm and un readable, thoughts clearly processing through that brain of his but un readable to Dean. With no verbal reaction from his brother Dean continued to speak.

"The older I get the harder it is. Puberty's a bitch and I _really_ don't know what to do about it Sammy...get a sex change? C'mon living this life, not likely?"

Feeling cold and drained Dean slumped, the bitter smile on his face finally giving way to a long exhale of breath. Running tension out along his temples he finally added.

"So that's it. That's what's going on with me... Sorry Sammy."

Head slumped down toward his lap, eyes shut tight with exhaustion more than anything else Dean felt motion to his side. He looked up to find Sam shifting toward him, before he could say anything Sammy's arms were wrapped tightly around his side. With his face buried against Dean's arm Sam began to speak.

"It's gonna be okay Dean. I promise." Was all he said, hugging tighter.


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later John returned and they packed up and headed out, this time west into Arkansas. Bobby had sent word about some kind of unspecified trouble in the Ozark Mountains and John wanted to check it out. Dean was still on his "time out" from hunting and which was becoming really, REALLY _annoying_ the longer it continued. They found themselves in the surprisingly busy Eureka Springs as John headed into the mountains with a week's worth of supplies.

Things with Sammy had been good since their talk. Sure he'd been quiet and sometimes Dean thought he caught him staring that un readable stare, something ticking over in his head but never the less things were cool between them, he wasn't gonna jinx it. He didn't feel magically okay but things with Sammy weren't weird, even though he knew what he knew.

On a Saturday evening after dinner at a cafe that Dean considered massively over priced and touristy but never the less seemed to make Sam happy with it's population of artsy types visiting town, Dean was restlessly station hopping, dissatisfied with what the TV had to offer when Sam called out his name. An edge of excitement in his voice.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a second?" He asked, slightly too eagerly for his elder siblings comfort.

"Yeah?" Dean responded, raising an eyebrow in suspicion and turning to face Sam.

Sam was sitting at the small desk that rested against the wall of their slightly more up-market than usual hotel room. He had a folder open in front of him and a pile of papers clutched eagerly in his hands.

"What've you got there nerd?" Dean questioned, worry and affection simultaneously present in the response.

Sam flicked through the papers once more and bit his lip before beginning to talk.

"Well, after what we talked about." He began.

Dean's gut twisted at the subject. Things were cool between them but the whole thing, the inevitability of what was slowly happening to him was still hard to talk about.

"uh huh." He replied, the pain evident in his voice.

"I did some research." Sammy declared.

Dean couldn't help but let out half an uncomfortable laugh in response.

"I knew you were up to something at the library!You love your research dontcha Sammy!" He shot back.

Sam simply continued to talk.

"There are things you can do to make it better." He declared.

"Sammy..." Dean tried unsuccessfully to interrupt before his brother carried on.

"No." Sam insisted.

"Get this, it's a real thing Dean. According to a lot of people it doesn't make you crazy or a freak. It makes you transgender, more specifically transexual and you can deal with it. You can do something!"

Dean huffed doubtfully, shaking his head, refusing to let a sliver of hope in lest the world take it away.

"And what Sammy?" He demanded, his voice growing louder.

"See some Doctor that we can't afford and we can't stay in one place to come back to?"

He turned away from Sam to stare up at the ceiling. It wasn't like he hadn't heard of this kind of bullshit. Even outside of supermarket tabloids or Jerry Springer he had a brief understanding of what the words meant. He just didn't think any of it could apply to their life!

Sam wouldn't give up though, he kept on pushing.

"That doesn't matter!" He insisted.

What he said next actually gave Dean pause, because it came from Sammy but also because it seemed like rare proof that his little brother was a Winchester after all.

"I was reading about it, including medical stuff and we can forge prescriptions for the right things!"

Dean turned back to face him, again unable to avoid an eyebrow raised in response.

"Forge prescriptions?" He clarified slowly.

"Yeah." Sam confirmed.

"For Estrogen and for testosterone blockers! You and Dad do that kind of thing all the time!"

"Sure for I.D." Dean admitted.

"But it's not the same Sammy!" He added.

"Yes it is, it's just different details." Sam again insisted.

"And it's not just that."

Sam lent forward in his chair calmer than before and suddenly seeming much more mature than his 12 years.

"You're not a guy who wishes he was a girl, or wants to be a girl, or whatever! If you feel like this, if you feel like you're a girl then you ARE one! It doesn't matter what the world says, or what Dad says or what Doctors say or even your body!"

Sam forcefully drew an up and down line in the air toward Dean with the papers, his brow furrowing as he spoke.

"And I NEED you!"


	4. Chapter 4

Sam had given the folder of information to Dean, telling him to just read it. He wouldn't take no for an answer so to humour the kid he took it, promising to read. Everything he'd ever known about how he felt, about feeling like he should have been a girl not a guy, either made him feel like the biggest freak in the world or seemed like it had nothing to do with them.

Hearing Sammy talk though, hearing the words,

"_If you feel like this, if you feel like you're a girl then you ARE one! It doesn't matter what the world says."_

That was different, maybe it _was_ just because Sammy was saying it or maybe it was because he was SO tired of pushing it all down inside himself but he couldn't get it out of his head. If there was one thing that Dean Winchester was good at doing it was saying "Screw you!" to the world and carrying on regardless.

"_If you feel like this, then you ARE!"_

It felt true, it felt real and god dammit it felt good! For the first time in a very long time he..._she_...? Kinda felt okay.

SHE felt okay!

Or something close to it any way.

Realising the truth of your own identity was one thing but reconciling it to your body was another. There was no way in hell she was going to deal with bullshit Doctor's even if her life didn't make that impossible but she HAD to do something about her body. She had to...what was it that Sammy's research called it..transition? It seemed like a stupid word to her but she had to do it and dammit if the plan to forge prescriptions might actually work with their life.

Several mornings later, with John still away, she was glad for that too, for the space it gave her to deal with this, she took Sammy out for breakfast. Again the kid took to being around the artsy tourists that seemed to populate the town like a natural. While Sam was finishing his blueberry pancakes and orange juice, over priced and "organic" or some shit as they were in this tourist trap, Dean started to talk.

"So, Sammy." She started, marvelling at her brother being the one wolfing down food for a change.

"I read that stuff you gave me."

Sam paused, looking up at her and swallowed a mouthful of pancake, a small smile creeping onto his lips to reveal blueberry stained teeth.

"And...?" He asked.

Dean smiled back and picked up her own fork, skewering one of the remaining pancakes on Sammy's plate.

He gave a brief but indignant,

"Hey!"

In response before she began.

"And, you're not a stupid as you look Sammy!" She replied, gently bopping him on the forehead with her empty fork.

His missing pancake forgotten, a broad grin crept onto Sam's face.

"Yeah?" He replied.

"Yeah." Dean confirmed confidently before adding with a smile.

"You're still a little bitch though."

Sam shook his head and laughed, smiling back.

"Yeah and you're still a jerk."


End file.
